


Disobeying Dorian

by WeWillSpockYou



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bruises, Daddy Kink, M/M, Punishment, Spanking, corner time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1404235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeWillSpockYou/pseuds/WeWillSpockYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian makes John promise that he would no longer visit The Recollectionist. John disobeys Dorian and goes back anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disobeying Dorian

 

John Kennex was a donut fiend. If you didn’t make it to the donut machine before John in the morning, you’re day was going to be shit from the start. He was sitting at his desk with the dust of several cinnamon donuts all over his chin and his black shirt, copious amounts of the spice also littered his desk and pants.

“We should stop at the store the next time we are out on patrol, John.”

“Why, whattaya need?”

“I don’t require anything John, you however could use a lifetime supply of bibs.”

“Hardy har har, Dorian. Now that I’ve eaten, let’s roll.” It rained cinnamon and sugar as John stood up. Dorian walked over and started dusting off his chest. “Not in the office, man, we discussed this…” John said through his teeth.

“John, you’re a disaster and I am not going out in public with you looking like you ate breakfast from a trough. Now dust off your pants or I’ll have to do it for you.”

“Yes, Mother. Christ…bossy friggen android boyfriend.”

 

“Are you okay John?”

 

“Drop it Dorian.”

 

“You have asked me not to scan you without your permission, John and I agreed. Don’t make me go back on my word because you can’t be honest with me about this.”

 

He had a point. John hated it when Dorian scanned him. It was an invasion of privacy and damned creepy when Dorian knew before he did that he was hungry or needed to use the men’s room. “You just don’t understand, D, not having my memories from the day of the raid is…”

 

John knew exactly what it was, it was fucking devastating. Seeing only bits and pieces of that day, not knowing the proper sequence of events. It was like an old time movie reel with all cells mixed up and jumbled together like a five year old had gone at it with scissors and paste.

 

“It’s what John, tell me.”

 

“Dammit, Dorian, you know what it is!” He slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. Dorian placed a hand on his shoulder, his fingers caressing his neck. “I need to do it again Dorian. I need to go back to the recollectionist. I have to know. Have to know why she did this. Why she chose me. If she loved me at all, ever?”

 

“I understand what you’re saying, John. I do, but the last time you did this you crashed the cruiser and I was impaled with a pipe to the head. Do you remember that day?”

 

Of course he remembered that day. They had been driving to question a witness when the Membliss kicked in. Memories had slammed into him at all once, fast, furious and jumbled. It was like video set on super fast forward and his brain couldn’t keep up. He had started to sweat and was dizzy. Then he lost control of the car and everything went to hell. Dorian had to grab the wheel to keep them from veering into an oncoming bus. The cruiser ended up crashing into a roadside construction crew and a large metal pipe had slammed through the windshield and nearly into Dorian. It had grazed his head and had almost taken off his right ear. John had never been more terrified in his life.

 

He and Dorian had a long discussion that night about how dangerous this whole thing was. Dorian had made John promise he would never go back and made sure John understood there would be consequences if he disobeyed. John had argued colorfully against this, but Dorian had stood firm. “Never again, John, do you understand me? Never again. You know the consequences.”  

 

Thankfully the conversation was halted by a call out on a case. It was messy murder and John was happy just to dig in and get to work. Anything to get his mind off Anna and that terrible day.

 

 

John knew the consequences. He dispensed a tiny red pill into his hand and swallowed it dry. He stared at himself in the rearview mirror of the cruiser. He could see the dark circles under his eyes, day old stubble making him look older, more haggard. When he started down this road to rediscover his memories, he had been alone. No one cared how many times a week he came here or how many pills he took. Now there was Dorian. Not that John agreed with having consequences for his actions. OH NO, he was his own man and could make his own decisions. He had to admit though it was nice to have someone he could trust, which oddly enough brought things back around full circle. John had not wanted to work with a synthetic partner, bleeding heart or no, but it was that bleeding heart which had saved his life when he had been under too long in the recollectionist’s chair. Dorian had found him and had unhooked him from the machine just in time. John trusted him unquestioningly from the moment he realized the DRN had saved his miserable life. John flicked a finger out at the Saint Christopher medal dangling from the rearview mirror, sending it spinning. He opened the door and stepped out of the car.

 

 

“I thought you were finished here, John, after what happened when you crashed your police cruiser?”

 

“Yeah, well I said that in front of my partner. I need my memories back and this is none of his business anyway.”

 

The recollectionist looked skeptical. He didn’t see a lot of good things in his line of work. Mostly he dealt with desperate people looking for a way to hold on to lost loves and broken promises. John was different; he was on a mission. For a long time it was a mission of revenge, but recently, with the addition of his new “partner” on the police force the theme of John’s reason for seeking out his services had gone from revenge to wanting to understand what had happened that day; to find answers. He did not believe for one moment that John and Dorian were only colleagues. “Get in the chair.”

 

Memories zipped past in John’s mind at the speed of light. He saw Anna the day she crashed her car into his, saw Pelham dead, could smell the smoke from the explosion and the coppery scent of his own blood. John could see Anna, the look of pure hatred on her face as she tossed the grenade at him, she was mouthing something at him, he couldn’t quite read her lips, again, show it again, need to see it again…

 

“JOHN!” Dorian was yelling. “Wake up John, c’mon man.”

 

NO, no no, no, he couldn’t wake up now, not when he was so close. Dammit, Dorian. He opened his eyes and a migraine slammed through his head. “Dorian?” He gasped.

 

“Here, John, drink this.” He was handed a paper cup full of water as Dorian dabbed at the fresh blood he could feel flowing from his nose.

 

When John had finally stopped bleeding and was sipping his water, Dorian turned on the recollectionist. “I thought I told you he was done with these treatments?” Dorian’s voice was cold, deadly.

 

“H-he said it wasn’t any of your business and that he wanted to continue the treatments.” The man was scared shitless and just wanted these two out of his office, now.

 

“Listen and listen well, my friend, John Kennex is no longer your patient. You will cease and desist with all treatments from this moment forward.” Dorian smiled at him. John was terrified and the smile was not directed at him. “Are we understood?”

 

The recollectionist nodded like a crazy bobble-headed doll. “Yes, y-yes. No longer a patient. Just go, please go now.”

 

Dorian grabbed John under his left arm and hauled him out of the chair and out of the office. “Dorian, I-”

 

“We’ll talk at home, John, let’s go.”

 

The car ride back to John’s apartment was silent. Dorian wouldn’t let him drive. “Don’t even think about it.” He’d said. No one bothered to turn on the radio and John felt nauseous, both from the medication and from how upset Dorian was with him. He knew Dorian was worried, but he was also disappointed and angry. John eased himself out of the car when they parked and Dorian was there to help carry him inside.

 

“Sit down, John.” Dorian led him to the couch. “On a scale of 1-10, how bad is your headache?”

 

“M’fine Dorian really, just tired.”

 

“Scale of 1-10 John, let’s not add to your punishment.”

 

“Pain’s a nine, okay Dorian? Happy now?” John sulked.

 

“No, I am a lot of things John, happy is NOT one of them.” He walked off and returned a moment later with migraine meds and an open bottle of water. He held out the pills and John shot them back. He took the water from Dorian and drank deeply.

 

“When was the last time you ate, John?”

 

“Ummm, lunchtime?” He rubbed his fists into his eyes and yawned.

 

“We didn’t eat lunch John, the Miller case, remember?” They had been chasing a hot lead and didn’t have time to eat. John said he was fine to keep going, Dorian should have known better.

 

“Yeah, I remember, so the donuts this morning are the last thing I ate.”

 

“I’ll make you some noodles.” Dorian walked into the kitchen and started gathering ingredients.

 

John knew it was pointless to argue. He laid back into the couch and closed his eyes.

 

 

“John, wake up.” He could feel Dorian shaking his shoulder and he opened his eyes.

 

“Hi.” John said, dopey from sleep and the migraine meds.

 

“Hi baby.” As angry as Dorian was, he couldn’t resist John when he was sleepy or when he was hurt or…ever really. “Sit up so you can eat, okay?”

 

“So sleepy and sore, D.”

 

“I know, we’ll go to bed when you’ve eaten.”

 

“You’re mad and we’re suppos’ta talk.” John’s voice was small.

 

“Tomorrow is soon enough, John. I called us out for tomorrow. Maldonado is glad to be rid of us.”

 

“You still gonna cuddle me before I fall asleep, D? I know I was a bad boy.”

 

“Don’t I always, John.” He slid a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his head.

 

“Mmmm, just checkin’” John shoveled up an enormous mouthful of noodles.  Dorian just smiled.

 

 

“D…ummm…thanks.” John was sprawled across his chest, his head resting on Dorian’s shoulder and the fingers of his right hand stroking Dorian’s hair.

 

“What are you thanking me for, John?”

 

“For saving my life. You know, ummm...again.”

 

“You’re welcome, John. Go to sleep.”

 

“M’sorry, Daddy.” He whispered.

 

“I know.”

 

 

John cracked open an eyeball and wished he was dead. Maybe he was dead and that’s what the white light assaulting his head was; heaven.

 

“Oh good, you’re up.” Of course Dorian was always chipper in the morning. John thought that was a bug in his colloquialism routine and kept badgering Rudy to fix it so Dorian was grumpy in the morning.

 

“Morning, Dorian.” John mumbled.

 

“Here’s some water, Tylenol and your leg.” He set the bottle and tablets on the nightstand and moved to pull back the covers so he could get at the port for John’s leg.  Once it was hooked up, Dorian sat down next to him and handed him the pain killers and the opened bottle. “Drink up, you’re going to need to be hydrated today.”

 

“Okay, Dorian.”

 

Dorian raised a questioning eyebrow.

 

“Sorry, Daddy.” Fuck, John knew he was being punished, dammit off to a bad start already.

 

“Good boy, John. How about eggs and toast?”

 

“Yes, please, Daddy.” His stomach was threatening to revolt at the moment, but John knew it was futile to push back. He was in enough trouble as it was.

 

Dorian leaned in to kiss his lips good morning, his hands were threaded together with John’s. “I’ll start the eggs.” Dorian kissed him again and left the room. John went into the bathroom to shower and shave.

 

 

When John walked into the kitchen twenty minutes later, Dorian was serving up his breakfast.

 

“How do you feel, John?”

 

He sighed, “Tired and sore, Daddy.”

 

“Nice manners John, thank you.”

 

John nodded, his mouth full of eggs.

 

“So tell me why, John? It’s not going to change the outcome of how things are going to go this morning, but I would like to know.”

 

He sighed and got up from his stool. John paced the kitchen trying to gather his thoughts. “She said something before she threw the grenade at me.”

 

“What do you mean, she said something? Why didn’t you tell me before now, John?”

 

“Because you didn’t want me to go back. It would have sounded like an excuse to keep going and you were upset enough.”

 

John was right he had been angry and unable to handle any more of this crazy plan to recover John’s memory. Dorian couldn’t sit and watch John destroying himself. He would have thought John was making excuses. But now? He was upset John had kept this from him, but it was his fault. “What do you remember?”

 

He looked at the floor, “Nothing, not a dammed thing. So this was all for nothing really. You’re pissed and disappointed, I lied to you and your gonna spank-“ He sighed and wrapped his arms around himself.

 

Dorian hated when he did that, trying to make himself smaller, less there. “Come here, John.”

 

John walked to him and Dorian reached out to hold his face, so that John was forced to meet his eyes.  “Are you alright to do this, John?” His eyes were concerned and compassionate.

 

“I’m a lotta things, but a coward isn’t one of them, D.”

 

“I know, John. You are my brave boy. There is no need to call me “D” when we’re home, you know.” John wrapped his arms around him and hugged back.

 

"Go into our room and take your clothes off John. Wait for me in your corner."  
  
"Yes, Daddy."  


  
John stared at the wall of his corner, noticing the small imperfections. Places the paint wasn't as dark or brush marks could be seen. He hated the waiting, it was worse than the punishment. After what felt like an eternity, but was only ten or fifteen minutes in actuality, Dorian walked into the room. He came to stand behind John, who could feel his erection hot and leaking against the crack of his ass. "Hello, John."  
  
"Hi, Daddy." John shivered. Calling Dorian “Daddy” always did that to him.   
  
"Are you ready for your punishment?"  
  
He nodded.   
  
"Use your words John." Dorian's voice was firm.   
  
He shivered again. "Yes, Daddy, I'm ready."  
  
"Turn around."  
  
John obeyed and turned to face Dorian. Hi erection brushed against Dorian when he turned. John hissed at the contact.   
  
"What's your safeword John?"  
  
He swallowed hard when his cock jerked against Dorian's in response. "Yellow for too intense and red to stop."

"Good boy. What happens if you don't use them if you need to?"  
  
"Everything stops."

Dorian had to institute this rule after John refused to safeword. He had clearly had enough, but his pride kept him from saying so. Dorian hadn’t had to stop anything, but he felt much better knowing this safe guard was in place for John.

“On your hands and knees on the bed, John.”

John walked around him and used his knees to climb up on the bed. He fell forward onto his hands and moved his knees apart so they were even with his shoulders and he was open to Dorian. He waited, fuck did John hate waiting.

 He felt Dorian come up behind him. He smoothed his hands up the soles of John’s feet. He could feel the pressure and heat of Dorian’s hand on his synthetic foot, but not the nuances of the touch. Dorian’s hands trailed up his calves, knees and thighs before stopping to rub the cheeks of John’s ass.  John dropped his head forward and moaned.  Fuck, that felt good. Dorian’s hands went to his hips and stroked up his back and onto his neck. “How many, John? How many do you deserve for disobeying me, making me worry, making me have to invade your privacy by turning on your locater chip to find you, making me revisit the recollectionist and having to SAVE your life again, John? How many?” Dorian’s breath was ragged and harsh. He was angry, but he was also scared. Hearing himself spell it all out again for John sent a bolt of cold fear down his synthetic spine. If he weren’t synthetic, if he had a real, beating heart, dealing with John Kennex would have stopped it long ago.

“Daddy, please.” John begged.

“How many, John?” Dorian’s voice was ice cold, much the way it had been the night before when he was speaking with the recollectionist.

Fuck, was Dorian pissed. “Five, Daddy, five strokes, please, for all that I put you through.” John could feel himself start to sweat. This would not be pretty.

“I agree with your assessment John, but am adding one more, since you failed to tell me about your memory of Anna.”

Great. That’s all he needed was that fucking bitch causing him more pain. John wanted to argue, but he knew Dorian would only add more swats and six was plenty. He nodded his agreement instead.

“Are you ready, John?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“You will count the strokes, John.”

“Yes Daddy, thank you for reminding me.”

Dorian calibrated the right amount of force and struck John’s left butt cheek.

“Fuck, OUCH!” John screamed out.

“John.” Dorian warned.

“One Daddy.”

Dorian struck again, this blow landing on John’s right cheek.

“Two, Daddy.” John said through gritted teeth.

Dorian could see the bright red handprints on John’s ass and felt his cock get harder. He rubbed the marks in an attempt to take the sting out. John hissed in response. “Are you okay to continue, John?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m fine.”

Dorian placed the third blow between John’s cheeks.

“Three, Daddy.”

Again in the same location.

“Four, Daddy.” John whimpered. Fuck did that hurt.

He rubbed John’s ass again trying to make John relax a bit more. It wasn’t helping. John’s ass was on fire.

The fifth blow landed lower on the right cheek, close to John’s thigh.

“Five, Daddy.” John was near his breaking point. He could feel the sweat pooling in his lower back and beginning to trickle toward his shoulder blades.

The sixth and final strike landed on the lower left cheek.

“Six, Daddy.” John whispered collapsing onto the bed.

“I will be right back, John.” Dorian left the room and returned shortly with bottles of water and cold packs for John’s abused ass.

Dorian climbed onto the bed and pulled John into his arms and across his chest. John was lying on his belly to avoid any pressure on his ass. Dorian applied the cold packs and twisted off the cap of one of the bottles of water and handed it to John, who slugged down half the bottle in one long sip.

“You did so well John, Daddy is so proud of you. So proud.”

“Thanks.” John said quietly. He always got quiet after a punishment.

“There has to be another way John, another way to retrieve your memories. We’ll find it together, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written Daddy kink before with McKirk but it was more in the form of lovers trying something new. In this piece it is obviously an established part of the relationship between John and Dorian. There is almost nothing in Dorian's life that is his to control or even within his control. This dynamic serves both men well.
> 
> So let's hear it everyone, do you want to see more of these kind of fics? More John and Dorian?


	2. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a price to be paid for John's visit to the Recollectionist. One he never considered having to pay.

John had slept after his spanking, he usually did after punishments, but combine that with the after effects of his trip to the recollectionist and John was down for the count, sleeping for several hours. When he’d finally woken late into the afternoon, it was to find himself snuggled into Dorian, his arms wrapped around John, holding him close.

“I may have a solution to your memory issue, John.” Dorian kissed his head as John continued to wake up.

“What’s that?” John knew Dorian had been searching his data banks and the internet as he slept.

“Old fashioned memory regression hypnosis. It was all the rage fifty years or so ago.”

“Dorian, I don’t need some hippy-dippy, earth-crunchy chick with hairy armpits burning patchouli incense to tell me I was Henry VIII in a past life.”

“No, John this isn’t past life regression, this is regressing through your own memories naturally, instead of using chemicals and computers to probe inside your mind. You take a walk through it yourself, like watching a movie.”

The patchouli aside, it did sound like a safer option than the recollectionist. “You found someone local who knows how to do this?”

“I did John, we have an appointment for tomorrow night after our shift ends.”

“We, Dorian?”

“We, John.”

 

John’s ass was killing him. He had tried sitting in various positions in his desk chair but nothing was helping his abused flesh. Every wince and groan in pain was serving to remind John that Dorian loved him and that he was always to be obeyed.

It was no use, he needed to stand up and give his ass a break. Just as he started to stand up, Maldonado was popping her head out of her office, screaming, “KENNEX!”

Fuck, just what John needed. He walked into her office and kept to his feet rather than sitting down.

“John, you’re going to want to sit down for this.”

John didn’t like the sound of this and liked even less the look on his captain’s face. She looked haggard, ten years older than she was and sad. John sat.

“Who is Henry Ye, John?”

Fuck and double fuck, this was bad, this was really, really bad. Recollectionists were illegal, deemed too dangerous after a rash of deaths the year before John’s injury. The penalty for being caught visiting one was time in the cubes. John was probably going to lose his badge for this.  He sucked in a rough breath. “He’s the Recollectionist I went to see to try to recover my memories of the day of the raid.”

“Yeah, and now he’s a massive problem for you, Dorian and the department.” She put her head in her hands and started rubbing her eyes.

“Dorian? What does this have to do with him?” If John was scared before about the ramifications of losing his job, he was terrified now with Dorian being brought into this mess of his own creation. If only he’d obeyed Dorian, none of this would be happening.

“Mr. Ye swore out an official statement yesterday, accusing Dorian of police misconduct.”

“Misconduct? What misconduct?”

“Mr. Ye claims Dorian threatened him into never treating you again. That he was in fear for his life.”

“Fuck, Sandra. Dorian told the guy that I was no longer his patient and that he was never to treat me again. He didn’t threaten the guy and he sure as hell wasn’t in fear of his life. When do you need me to meet with IA about this?”

“It’s gone beyond that now, John.” The line of her mouth was grim.

John stood up and un-holstered his gun and gripping it by the barrel reached forward to place it on her desk.

“What are you doing, John? I’m not taking your badge and gun. We can overlook you visiting Mr. Ye because of what happened in the raid and you losing your leg as a result. What we cannot overlook are synthetics overstepping their bounds as sentient beings and threatening the very humans they are sworn to protect.”

John had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He looked out the glass walls of his office to look at his desk, Dorian was nowhere to be seen. “Where is Dorian now?” He rasped out, his heart beating in his throat.

“John…”

“Dammit, Sandra, where is HE?” He could feel his blood surging in his veins and his Irish temper rise up from within him.

“He’s with Rudy, John. He’s been decommissioned. I’m sorry, I did everything I could to save him, to save you both.”

John felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He rocked forward onto his toes and fell onto his hands on Sandra’s desk. He fought to take deep breaths. When he was steady enough to stand on his own, he strode from Maldonado’s office.

“Don’t do anything stupid, John.” Sandra cautioned as he pushed through her doors.

 

The lights and sirens on the cruiser were screaming. He couldn’t get Rudy on the phone. He kept calling and calling and only got Rudy’s cheery, cockney voice asking him to leave a message. John roared up in front of the lab, parking the cruiser on the sidewalk and barely remembering to yank out his keys as he took off running for the front door. John bolted up flights of stairs, finally bursting through into Rudy office. “DORIAN!” He yelled.

“Here, John.” He heard Dorian’s voice from down below.

John raced down the stairs to his side. He was being guarded by six well armed MXs. They must have known John was coming. Dorian was strapped down to one of Rudy’s work benches. “D, I’m sorry, so sorry for this for all of this. I should have listened, should have obeyed you.”

Dorian reached out a hand and John grabbed hold of him. “It’s okay, John. You’ll keep your badge and work with an MX. Everything will be fine.” He squeezed John’s hand, feeling his heart beat through his heated flesh. It was a rhythm Dorian would take with him to wherever he was going next.

“John, I’m sorry,” Rudy said from behind him. “It has to be now. I wish I could give you more time.”

“It’s okay Rudy, I understand, but if anyone’s going to do this, it’s gonna be me.” He turned to face Rudy and held out his hand. “Give me the rod, please.” Rudy handed it over and John turned back to Dorian, tears shining in his eyes. Not giving a fuck that there was a small army of MXs watching, he leaned over Dorian and kissed him. His tongue swept into Dorian’s mouth. John forced his mind to remember every movement of his tongue against Dorian’s.

“I love you, John, never forget me.” Dorian smiled at him.

“I love you too, D.” John touched the rod to Dorian’s ear and watched his eyes go from brilliant blue to cold black. Daddy.

 

“NO, Dorian, I’m sorry, don’t leave me, come back. DADDY!!” John was screaming and thrashing hard in his bed. He sat bolt upright and swung his arms out, noting he was alone in bed, his head swung around the room as it sunk in where John was. He was alone in his bed.

“John?” Dorian shouted as he raced into the room. He flew to John’s side and took his sweaty head in his hands. He knew John hated it, but he scanned him anyway. He seemed to be fine, but for his erratic heartbeat and the profuse sweating. “It’s just a dream John, whatever it was, it’s just a dream.”

“Daddy.” John bawled, pulling him close. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, I should have listened. I’m sorry.”

“Shhhh.” Dorian soothed. “It’s okay John, you’re okay, just breathe for me. Just breathe, that’s it.”

“They decommissioned you, Dorian because of me, because of my trips to the Recollectionist.”

“It’s just a dream, John. I’m right here, we’re together.”

“We shouldn’t be Dorian.” John’s voice was serious.

“What do you mean, John?”

“I’m no good for you. I’ll keep disobeying, doing things my way and all it will do is hurt you in the end. I can’t be the one to turn you off, Dorian. Can’t be the reason you’re zipped into a storage bag.” John pulled away from Dorian and rolled over on his side away from Dorian. Without his synthetic leg he was trapped where he was, he couldn’t run from this, couldn’t hide from Dorian.

John was right. He would continue to disobey. It was part of his charm. John would also continue to do things his way. He had always been used to fending for himself. Dorian knew with time he would get used to Dorian being a true partner, but for now what they had was enough. It was something to build on.

Dorian slid into bed with John and wrapped himself around John’s back. John stiffened beneath his touch. “John, I have no doubt, that you’ll disobey me again in the future and that you’ll want to do things you own way. We need to work on that together. I was unreasonable in refusing to discuss alternative ways to recover your memories and you were unreasonable in going back to that quack. I promise we’ll figure this out.”

“My dream told me how, D.”

“It did?”

“Yeah, something about old fashioned memory regression hypnosis.” John yawned loudly.

“Tell you what, you sleep and I’ll do the research. Okay?”

John snuggled backward into Dorian’s warmth. “Love you, Daddy.”

Dorian held him tighter. “Love you too, John.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for the lovely Dani who sent me a wonderful email asking to have a second chapter added to this fic. I hope you enjoy this honey!!
> 
> Also, thank you to all of you who wrote in to tell me how much you enjoyed this fic!


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